Page 52 of Devil on Skates
He’s unconscious, and his breathing seems shallow and slow.
“Someone call an ambulance!” I scream.
In the crowd that’s gathered around us, many people already have their phones out. Some are filming, and I hope some are calling for help.
The car that hit Xavier came to a stop not too far away, and I look in its direction. Through the window, I can recognize Keith’s face and I think he’s grinning at me. What the fuck is wrong with him? He just tried to kill me, and Xavier...
As some people try to get to Keith, he speeds away before they can reach him, but I don’t have time to worry about him.
I check Xavier’s airway, breathing, and pulse, all while fighting the rising fear in my chest.
“Don’t move him!” I shout as a student rushes over, clearly wanting to help. “He might have a spinal injury. We need to keep him still until the paramedics get here.”
My hands move on autopilot, steady but trembling, as I stabilize his neck, keep checking his pulse, and try not to freak out over the amount of blood.
When the ambulance arrives, the paramedics quickly take over and I have to step away. The cops and campus security come to question me, but I barely say anything because my attention is on Xavier.
“I need to go with him,” I say, my voice full of panic as I dash toward the ambulance.
The lead paramedic looks me over. “Family?”
“Girlfriend. I’m all he’s got right now,” I say. “Please.”
He nods. “You can ride up front. We need room in the back.”
Once we’re at the hospital, Xavier is whisked away to treatment, and I’m left in the waiting room with nothing but my shaky hands and terror gripping my insides. Tears fill my eyes, and I’m unable to stop them.
Xavier, please be okay.
Please be okay.
He threw himself at me to protect me. Keith wanted to run me over, and Xavier risked his life to get me out of the way. I can’t lose him. I just can’t.
Minutes seem to last forever. My phone buzzes nonstop because the news must’ve spread and everyone wants to know what’s going on. I only answer the most important messages, ignoring the social media alerts telling me there are videos of the accident already online.
“Ms. Marshall?”
I look up to see a doctor in scrubs. Her face is calm but serious.
“He’s stable,” she says. “Multiple injuries but nothing immediately life-threatening. A couple of fractures, some soft tissue damage, and a concussion that needs watching.”
Relief and a different kind of worry flood me. He’s not dead, but he’s badly hurt. His future and his hockey career might be at risk.
“When can I see him?” I ask.
“He’s still under medication and unconscious from trauma,” she says gently. “We’re moving him to a room soon. You’ll be able to see him once he’s settled, but he probably won’t respond yet.”
I nod, trying to figure out what to do next. Staying here in the waiting room until I can see Xavier seems like the best option.
“IRINA.” MY DAD’S VOICEbehind me makes me jump in surprise.
I turn slowly, bracing myself for his anger or disappointment, but he steps toward me and wraps me in a surprisingly gentle and tight hug.
“Thank God you’re okay,” he says, his voice trembling like never before. “When I saw the video—”
As he steps back, his eyes flicker with relief, but the corners of his mouth are tight as if he feels bad about something. But for once, having him here with me is comforting rather than a source of distress.
“You saw what happened?” I ask.
